More Than Ink and Paper
by Ickiakki
Summary: If he had to write a piece of romantic poetry, it might as well have been about her. [KirioxMiyon]


Kirio scowled at his ink stained hand. He had been sitting at his desk for a while now, attempting to finish his homework, but nothing came to mind.

For you see, he had an assignment in literature: To write a romantic piece. It could be about anything, anyone, nobody in particular, somebody he'd made up, etc. It could be a poem, a story, anything…

His cheeks turned a rather pink color, as he remembered the younger girl he had met earlier on in the past year. She was bright, energetic, and optimistic… Usually, he hated those girls, because they were awfully annoying, spoiled, and loud. He would add "childish" to the list, but she was childish too, and yet, it was refreshing in a way.

Perhaps he was falling in love? The question just popped into his mind, but he quickly pushed the thought away with a wave of his hand. No, he didn't even know the girl very well, and he had Himeka to save.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to use her for the piece, and he was in the high school now, so she wouldn't be around. It was the only inspiration he had, and he had other, more "important" things to do. Like, go stalk Kujyou and try to kidnap Karin for the millionth time. Kirika often wished that her brother would go do something like exercise, or something that would offer better results. And, he was terribly skinny, so it would be nice if he gained some weight in muscle. Perhaps then he'd have better luck with women.

He snorted at the thought. Women. Who needed them? He had two perfectly loving sisters at home.

Maybe he would write a piece of poetry? That would be short and easy. It would be best to just write a physical description, he thought, and try to pass it off as some sort of romantic junk.

Kirio placed a pale finger on his chin, wondering where to start. Her hair, maybe? It was curly, and he had always liked curly hair on girls, but he never really said anything about it to anyone else. The color of her hair reminded him of toothpaste, which was not necessarily a bad thing, because he had enjoyed the taste of it as a young boy. He remained silent about that bit, though.

And her eyes reminded him of the golden, beady eyes that he always saw on teddy bears. Kirika had previously mentioned something about how the eyes on dolls and such frightened her, since they were emotionless, and it seemed as if some sort of helpless, but vengeful, soul was trapped inside of those seemingly bottomless orbs. Kirio, on the other hand, had always looked to his stuffed toys for comfort as a child, since they never were never mean to him, and always had time to listen to what he had to say. She did exactly that- Whenever he saw her, but unfortunately for him, that was rare.

As he began to muse about her lips, he blushed further, and scowled, yet again pushing away other thoughts.

"No," he mumbled to himself. "That's not it. She's just… She's just a girl. You don't care about her like that. This is just… A simple observation…"

The young class representative decided to write about her voice instead, since thinking about her mouth was too distracting. She had a distinct, annoying, childish voice. Its sound often rung in his ears, like that of the amateur, but Miyon's voice was always laughing, and there was a certain sweetness in her voice that the greenhorn goddess lacked. Overall, it bothered him because he could never get it out of his head, especially at night, when he was alone. It was better than the other voice that talked to him less frequently, anyway, and that voice had a harsher, rather villainous, tone that he disliked.

He remembered the way her skin felt, even though he had only touched her for a moment, and then again, it was almost an accident. The younger girl had showed him another one of her plays, along with a set of shojo-esque doodles. He thought it was brilliant, as always, and it was the drawing of the princess that struck him the most.

She looked like one of those whores from the taverns in France, and he would usually wince and frown at that, but he casually glanced over his shoulder and saw her beaming at him, with those huge, golden, teddy bear eyes. She looked so innocent- This was probably some sort of coincidence.

Her look startled him for a minute, but her pretended not to see it, merely pushing his glasses further up his nose. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face, but she didn't notice, thankfully.

Kirio rested an arm on her shoulder in a congratulatory manner, almost without thinking, as he said, "It's brilliant. I expect more great things from you."

He didn't realize the impact of his small gesture. Miyon's heat skipped a beat, fluttering in her chest like a frightened bird, struggling to be free. Her eyes moved to his cold hand, down his sleeve as she admired the shape of his arm, over the lanky, almost awkward shoulders, to his face. Her face turned a beet red, and the older boy drew back in an almost frenzied panic. Everything became blurry for her, and eventually she lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

Worried, Kirio's instincts took control as he sprung to catch her, only to end up in a rather awkward pose. His face was close to hers, his hands in all the wrong places, her leg was in the air, and it seemed like a rather exaggerated, but typical, dramatic almost-kiss scene.

Unfortunately, he was caught by the principal, and was forced to explain. He was able to bail himself out, but that was only because the principal was an idiot, and a fellow sap.

"Ugh," Kirio frowned again, biting his pencil. "I have to write something. But thinking about her makes me feel so…"

He looked up at the ceiling, his expression becoming dreamy and dazed, and he smiled.

"Strange," he tilted his head to the side, talking to nobody in particular. "But I can't help but like it."


End file.
